


Different Kind of Therapy

by CBFirestarter, TrenchcoatBaby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Castiel/Dean Winchester BDSM, Dom Castiel (Supernatural), Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dubious Ethics, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mental Health Patient Dean Winchester, One Shot, Psychiatrist Castiel (Supernatural), Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CBFirestarter/pseuds/CBFirestarter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrenchcoatBaby/pseuds/TrenchcoatBaby
Summary: Dean meets with a psychiatrist, Dr. Castiel Novak, looking for ways to blow off steam. Little does he know, the handsome doc has a dirty secret that could solve all their problems.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 40
Kudos: 478
Collections: FicFacer$ 2020





	Different Kind of Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [I_Am_The_Blue_Sunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_The_Blue_Sunshine/gifts).



> Hello friends!  
> My coauthor and I have a sexy one-shot for you all! This fic is for our ficfacers auction bidder. They requested some BAMF dom Castiel who cannot resist our favorite green-eyed sub, and hopefully this prompt will satisfy. Huge thank you to our wonderful betas/editors…we love you.  
> ENJOY!  
> CB & TCBaby
> 
> NOTE: This is pure, unadulterated, fun and smut—it is not meant to represent a real relationship between a mental health professional and their client.

“Dean?” a rough, warm voice greets him.

“That's me,” Dean answers, standing up and tossing the beaten up magazine he was holding onto the side table.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Doctor Novak, but you can call me Castiel if you like.” The doctor extends his hand and Dean gives it a firm shake. He takes in the Mr. Rogers sweater, pleated khaki pants, thick-rimmed glasses, and neatly parted dark hair, and thinks Castiel is the most stereotypical looking therapist he’s ever seen. 

“Come right on in.” Castiel gestures to his office, and Dean sucks in a deep breath before heading inside. He takes in the three arm chairs in the room, along with the oak desk.

“So, uh, where's the couch?”

“Couch?” Castiel asks, head tilted and hands in his pockets.

“You know…the shrink couch, where I’m supposed to lay down and tell you all my feelings?” Dean circles the two chairs, already feeling a bit closed in.

“Well, I’m a psychiatrist, not a shrink. And I prefer a more modern talk therapy approach, as opposed to Freud's psychoanalysis methods.” The doctor gives him a small smile before heading to the armchair by the window. There’s already a mug and notepad on the table next to it and Dean fidgets as he watches Castiel get settled in his seat. “Can I get you some tea or water?” Dean shakes his head no.

“So, what brings you in here today, Dean?” Castiel’s voice is so rich and warm it settles Dean’s nerves a bit. 

“Well, I guess I’ve been kinda stressed a little. My brother made me promise to give this a shot.” Dean shrugs, already cursing his brother for getting him to come here.

“Sounds like he cares about you?” Castiel asks, taking his mug in his hands and thankfully leaving his notepad on the table.

“He does, yeah. He worries too much, and that's my job.” Dean shrugs again.

“Why is it your job to worry?”

“Because, I’m the big brother. I take care of him.” Dean feels his chest puff out a bit.

“And that doesn’t go both ways?” Castiel raises a questioning brow, and Dean flushes under that stare.

“Well yeah, I guess. But I didn’t come here to talk about Sam.” Dean shakes his head. “Sam is the good part of my life, okay?”

“Okay,” Castiel answers, holding up a hand in surrender. “So, what are the not good parts?”

Dean lets out a long sigh, running his fingers through his hair. He came here for a reason, right?

“I’ve just been more and more stressed lately. I work long hours at my job, and even with overtime it barely covers the bills. I’m taking care of my brother, who is still in school, and my dad, he…well, he’s not around and when he is… It's just a lot of weight on my shoulders sometimes.” He bites his lower lip, feeling embarrassed with how much he just said. He hasn’t even been here five minutes.

Dean goes on talking about his daily life for a bit, telling the doctor about his job at the shop and night job as a janitor. He tells him about raising his brother, helping him with homework and taking care of the house. He can practically feel the tension building in his shoulders as he talks about it all.

“That sounds like a lot of decision making and responsibility for one person.”

Dean nods, staring at his lap. “I don’t mind it, not most of the time. I’m the guy that gets shit done, you know? People need help, they come to me, I fix it.”

“People?”

“Yeah, like friends and family and stuff. It just gets to be so much sometimes, always being the one in charge, you know? Telling everyone what to do?” Dean looks up when he hears Castiel coughing, obviously swallowing his tea wrong. “Hey, you alright?” Dean asks, about to get up when the man waves him back down.

“S-sorry.” Castiel clears his throat one more time before setting the tea down. “Do you have any current coping mechanisms? Anything you do to relieve your stress?”

Dean grins, biting his lip again. “Well, uh, there's lots of ways to let off steam, Doc.” His right hand can attest to that. He catches Castiel shifting his chair, leaning forward just a bit. He takes a minute to notice how handsome his face is. Nice jawline and pink lips.

“Are you referring to sexual release?” Castiel's voice gets a bit tighter but his eyes are open and seem non-judgemental.

Dean can’t stop his laugh. “Dude… sexual release’…really?” He shakes his head, feeling a bit more relaxed. “Yeah, man. I’m talking about getting off. Best high there is.” 

Dean doesn’t miss the hard swallow the doctor does. He’s beginning to think he might bat for the same team as him.

“Is that a common way for you to relieve stress, then?” Castiel asks, eyes firmly fixed on Dean’s.

“You could say that. But it hasn’t been helping as much lately.” He wonders just how much he should really tell this guy.

“Why do you say that?”

“I dunno. I mean, sure, I can go out to the bar and pick up a quick lay. Or when I’m too tired, I take care of it myself. It just doesn’t help, you know? I feel good for a few minutes, but then all the weight is still back on me.” He really just wants someone else to take the reins once in a while.

“You still feel that sense of responsibility, then? When you have one of your ‘hook-ups’?” Castiel says, throwing up the air-quotes.

“Air quotes? Really?” Dean chuckles and gets a stern look from Castiel. He freezes for a moment under that stare, his heart rate picking up a moment. He clears his throat, breaking the stare with those deep blue eyes. “What do you mean by ‘responsibility with my hook-ups’?”

Castiel leans back in his chair a bit, eyes scanning over Dean. “Let me guess, and you tell me if I’m right.”

“Okay,” Dean replies, his best cocky bravado in place.

“You're normally the one to make the first move. You find an attractive woman—”

“Or man,” Dean interrupts.

Castiel hesitates a moment. A small smile quirks on his lips, but is quickly gone. “You find an attractive woman or man and put on the charm. Buy them a drink, invite them back to your place or car. You focus on them, their pleasure, getting them off and taking care of your partner. A top calling the shots… Does that sound about right?”

Dean swallows hard. How did this guy read him so well? “That obvious?”

“Just a little.” The man grins at him, but it's friendly and unimposing. “Do you always like to be the one in control then?”

“ _Like_? I mean, it just usually happens that way. You know people see me and expect me to be a certain way, you know?”

“And what way is that?” Castiel asks, and he seems like he genuinely wants to know.

“I dunno…the alpha male, I guess.” He shrugs, his shoulder feeling his cheeks heat.

Castiel’s voice drops even lower…as if that was fucking possible. “And do you always like being the alpha male?”

“What other choice is there?” he asks, ‘cause really…what else can he do?

“You can be anything you want, Dean. And you don’t have to be any one thing all the time either. You don’t always have to be the one in control.” Castiel’s words take a second to sink in. He tries to imagine it, but has a hard time picturing it.

“I dunno, but it does sound kinda nice.” He thinks back to this one porn he came across. It was this guy bound and on his knees, bent over a bench while this other guy spanked him. It was kinda hot watching the one guy boss the other around. At the time, he figured he got off so hard watching it ’cause he pictured being the one in charge. If he’s honest, though, he kinda wished he was the one tied down, the one who didn’t have to worry or make any decisions, who could just enjoy himself. He thinks it would be really fucking hot, and just for second he imagines Castiel with his hand in Deanʼs hair, his cock bumping at his bottom lip, a firm growl calling him a _good boy_ as Dean swallows him down.

Dean shifts a little, feeling his cock begin to harden in his pants. _Down boy_ , he pleads in his head, and hopes the doctor doesn’t notice.

“I’m afraid that we’re out of time for today. I would like it if you could try and make a list of things that you think could help you relax, and maybe we can help build on those and come up with a plan to help you relieve some of this stress?” Castiel offers, as he moves to stand.

Dean follows, getting up as well and shakes his hand, shifting to hide his tightening jeans. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll think about it for sure.”

Dean intends to go home and think on it a great deal.

***

It’s during their fourth session that Dean Winchester decides to quit therapy.

Castiel could not be more relieved. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy talking with the young man—it’s quite the opposite, actually. Castiel worries that he appreciates Dean’s company far too much. He’s funny and smart and loyal, one of the most handsome men Castiel has ever seen, but most notably, he has a very specific problem that Castiel _knows_ he can fix.

But that’s Castiel the dom talking—not Dr. Novak, the well-respected psychiatrist. So he listens to Dean stress about the mound of responsibilities and expectations piled on him by his family, listens to Dean discuss how his only outlet is sex but even that hasn’t worked lately, listens to all the failed exercises and discussions of boundaries Dean shoots down again and again. 

Castiel knows that what this man needs, more than anything, is to surrender to his submissive instincts and let himself be dominated by someone he trusts, someone he can confide in. 

And Castiel, god help him, wants very, very badly to be that person. But it’s unethical, immoral to suggest such a thing while Dean’s psyche is in his care. So, Castiel has kept his inner dom silent, refusing to offer the solution he knows Dean truly requires. 

“So, yeah…” Dean says with a sigh, and Castiel snaps back to the present, realizing his mind had drifted. “S’nothing against you, Doc. I really don’t mind talking to you, which…” Dean snorts, shaking his head sheepishly. 

“Is that surprising?” Castiel asks, unable to prevent himself from probing even as his client is in the process of leaving. “That you’ve enjoyed talking with me, I mean.” 

“Uh, yeah. Sammy keeps calling it a miracle. He thinks me quittin’ is a mistake,” Dean says with a shrug. “But I can’t exactly tell him I’ve found something I wanna try more.”

Castiel pauses to consider this information, wrapping his hands around his warm mug. “Oh?”

“Yeah, umm…” Dean scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tick Castiel noticed during their first meeting. Dean’s cheeks flame scarlet, shifting uncomfortably in the leather chair, and Castiel’s interest is officially piqued. “No judgment?”

Castiel gives him a warm smile. “Of course not. That’s the first thing they teach you in medical school, right after ‘don’t get on the bad side of the nurses.’”

Dean chuckles, exhaling before admitting in a rush, “Okay, well…we’ve talked about how getting off is one of the only ways I’ve been able to get out of my head. Right?”

Castiel nods matter-of-factly, ignoring the sudden pulse of his racing heart. 

“Well, I think what I really need to clear my head and feel relaxed is to, uh…” Dean dips his head down, cheeks flaming. “Be…dominated.”

Castiel grips his mug so tightly, he wonders if it’s possible to break the ceramic. He swallows a dry lump in his throat and looks away, trying his best to stay professional in the face of this impossible situation. 

“That’s totally freaky, right?” Dean says, voice rising as he—mistakenly—takes in Castiel’s reaction. “You’re right, that’s—that’s nuts. Nobody in their right mind wants to get _50 Shades of Gray-_ ed. Sam tells me I confuse porn with reality all the time, so here I am…acting like some perverted jackass. Sorry I even brought it up—”

“Dean,” Castiel interrupts firmly, setting his mug down on his desk with a loud clunk. Dean opens his mouth wide, as if he intends to continue arguing, but Castiel holds up a hand in silence. Like a perfectly trained submissive, Dean’s mouth closes on instinct, his eyes scanning Castiel’s face. Castiel can’t help it—his inner dom purrs at the show of submission. “I want you to take three deep breaths with me. Can you do that?”

Dean nods dimly as Castiel models some deep, relaxing breathing. Eyes locked together, Dean copies Castiel’s example like an expert student, his panic giving way to something more stabilizing and calm. 

“Very good, Dean. I’m proud of you,” Castiel says softly, noticing some more tension easing off of Dean’s shoulder. Castiel mentally adds _praise kink_ to the list of submissive tendencies he’s noticed in Dean over the past month. “Now, I feel as though you misunderstood me, so please allow me to explain.” Castiel pauses, letting his words sink in, and Dean blinks and waits. “I don’t think seeking domination would be ‘freaky’ or ‘nuts.’”

“You…you don’t?” Dean’s expression is still carefully guarded, and Castiel breathes in steadily, trying his best to professionally navigate this minefield of a conversation. 

“No,” Castiel says, offering a small smile. “In fact, there’s a lot of research that suggests BDSM practices can be a great and therapeutic release. Particularly for someone like you.”

“‘Someone like me’?” Dean repeats, sounding a tad wary.

“I don’t mean that as an insult,” Castiel says quickly, feeling himself losing control of the conversation. How in the world is he supposed to discuss submission with a man he’s secretly been fantasizing about dominating for weeks? “Dean, your everyday life has an irregular amount of pressure and responsibility. You’re the first person to help in a crisis, to shoulder someone else’s problems. But after a while, that burden grows exhausting. It’s not unusual to want someone else to shoulder some of that burden, and if standard sexual encounters aren’t relieving that stress like they used to, I think it’s absolutely commendable—even brave—of you to explore another solution.”

Dean’s chest sags with relief, and he flashes Castiel an adorably nervous smile. “Thanks, man. I haven’t told anyone I’ve been thinking about doing this, so getting your approval…” He shrugs self-deprecatingly. “I dunno, it helps.”

Castiel eases back into his chair, feeling like he might not have botched that conversation after all. “I’m glad to hear it.” His eyes scan the clock—he only has ten minutes left of his final session with Dean, and then he’ll never get to know what becomes of his handsome, green-eyed ex-client. Will he find a good dom to tend to his needs? Or will he be like so many others, and stumble headfirst into an encounter with an unsafe, amateur dom?

“So…” he begins, hoping to sound as nonchalant as possible. “What’s your next step? In seeking out this new type of relationship?”

“Oh, um… Well, at first I thought about getting on a dating app and laying it out there, what I wanted, y’know? But I don’t really wanna hook up with some hardcore sadist and end up tied up in some guy’s basement for three days.”

Dean lets out a little chuckle, but Castiel has zeroed in on another part of Dean’s sentence. 

“Some ‘guy’? You’re envisioning a male dominant?”

Dean’s cheeks flush again, but he plasters on a cocky grin, one full of false confidence that Castiel can see right through. “Yeah, uh…you know I swing both ways, and I don’t really think a lady could overpower all this,” he says jokingly, sweeping a hand down his torso. 

“That’s a common misconception,” Castiel says without thinking, and Dean’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“Oh yeah? You friends with a lot of mistresses there, Doc?” 

Castiel clears his throat, busying himself with the stack of papers on his desk, and decides to avoid the question. “I just meant, it’s a common misconception that a dominant has to be physically larger than their submissive. The act of submission has nothing to do with being overpowered, and everything to do with offering your obedience willingly. A dom will be entrusted with your needs and your wellbeing, and that is a gift that should be respected and cherished.”

Dean eyes him with a mix of emotions now—intrigue, mostly. But it’s the streak of curiosity and understanding crossing his face that makes Castiel feel vulnerable. He needs to change the subject, and _fast_. 

“You seem to know a lot about this,” Dean says, and Castiel can almost see the other man’s wheels turning. 

“Like I said, there’s a lot of research surrounding the subject,” Castiel says evenly. He clears his throat and clasps his hands. “Well, Dean, it seems your time is almost up. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Dean is quiet for a moment before his expression turns playful, his mouth set to a tiny smirk. “Yeah, actually… Just wonderin’, where do you think I should go to find a dom? It’s not like you bump into one everyday, y’know.”

Castiel forces himself to look blank and uninterested. “I imagine there are online resources that can help you.” 

“Yeah, maybe. There are a few ads on Craigslist,” Dean drops casually, and Castiel feels his blood pressure begin to rise, imagining how reckless that would be. “One of them even said they’ll pay me if I don’t ‘safeword out.’”

“Dean, under no circumstances are you to—” Castiel begins to say hotly, his voice a low and threatening rumble. And then he remembers, Dean is _not_ his submissive…he’s welcome to engage in a dom/sub relationship with anyone he likes, and even threaten his own safety in the process. Dean, meanwhile, is grinning at Castiel’s outburst… And it occurs to Castiel that he’s stumbled upon a very smart, and very bratty, sub. 

“I apologize,” he says in a steadier tone. “I just meant—the basis of BDSM is ‘safe, sane, and consensual.’ Encouraging someone not to use their safeword is the opposite of safe, and I strongly suggest you approach this endeavor more cautiously.”

“Like at a club?” Dean suggests, his legs spread somewhat suggestively now, a smirk still on his face. “Isn’t there one in town? Den of Indulgence?” 

“Iniquity,” Castiel corrects, and then realizes his blunder almost immediately. Dean’s eyes are shining now, his body language open and inviting, as if Castiel just held up a giant sign that said _I regularly go to the Den of Iniquity and I would love to dominate you in every sense of the word._

Before Dean can say anything else, Castiel stands up briskly, the back of his neck sweating. He reaches for his office door, throws the door open and mumbles, “Well, that’s our time. Good luck in your…uh, future endeavors, Dean.”

Dean chuckles softly and stands up, pausing at the doorway until their chests are almost touching. It’s hard to believe that this is the same man who nearly had a panic attack fifteen minutes ago, but now that he’s uncovered Castiel’s secret and knows he’s not being judged, Dean’s cocky facade is back on, full-force. Castiel’s inner dom wants to do nothing but put this beautiful man in his place, to push him against the desk and give him a spanking until he’s hard and writhing against the furniture. But no—he’s at _work_ , this is terribly unethical, and anyways, he didn’t become a dom without having an excellent poker face. So, he grips the door handle and waits for Dean to pass. 

Finally, the other man whispers, “Maybe I’ll see you around,” in a tone that’s suggestive and sultry. Castiel watches him saunter out of the office, knowing desire and longing are broadcasted fully on his face. 

***

After his disastrous final appointment with Dean, Castiel avoids the Den of Iniquity for three whole months. Since entering into the BDSM lifestyle, this is the longest he’s ever stayed away, and his inner dom is struggling daily not to rise to the surface. It’s only when the itch begins to impact his moods and his ability to treat his patients that Castiel finally relents. 

It’s a Friday night, and it’s time to return to the Den of Iniquity.

He showers and dresses for the evening, abandoning his typical khakis and sweater combo for something a bit more enticing. Dressed in dark denim jeans and a blue, button-up shirt, he styles his hair and trades his glasses for contacts. He finds himself wondering if Dean will like the new and improved look, but then shakes his head and chuckles at himself. There’s no way someone as beautiful and alluring as Dean Winchester hasn’t spent the last few months tangled up in the sheets with someone equally as gorgeous. He might’ve flirted with Castiel, but it’s not like he’s been hanging around the BDSM club, waiting for Castiel to feel like enough time has passed for them to ethically be together. It would be absurd for Dean to truly want him at all. And yet… 

And yet as Castiel slides into his Lincoln Continental, he can’t help but fantasize about being reunited with Dean tonight. What would it be like to see that man kneeling at his feet, miles of golden skin at his fingertips, those plump pink lips parted for his cock? His jeans grow tighter just at the image, and he adjusts himself in the car, stopping at a red light and impatiently tapping on the steering wheel. He needs a release, and he needs it now.

He arrives at the club to find the parking lot packed, and he’s suddenly thankful that his weekend is clear and he has plenty of time to blow off steam. Behind those doors he’s sure to find many gorgeous submissives ready and waiting to be dominated, even if they’re not his current fixation: Dean Winchester. 

Tucked away in his glove box are Castiel’s latest test results—always something good to have on-hand when approaching a new sub. After slipping the paperwork into his back pocket, Castiel is greeted at the door by security. He follows the standard protocol of having his ID checked and his sides patted down. Once he’s through the doors all he can see is dark leather furniture, spots of soft yellow lighting aligning the walls, and a bar in the back corner that’s calling his name. He doesn’t drink before he dominates someone—it’s against his personal code of conduct—but the bar is a great place to mix and mingle, to see who’s available and ready to play. Before he takes a step further, though, he picks up a wristband at the receptionist’s desk. There’s a small, twisting crank, each color with a different meaning: red for non-active play, solid purple for a sub in search of a dom, striped purple for a claimed sub. The same principle follows for blue, and Castiel turns it to the solid hue: dom is searching for a sub.

Feeling confident and already a little turned on, Castiel walks towards the bar, nodding at familiar faces as he passes. Some groups wave him forward, perhaps seeking a dom to join in their threesomes or foursomes, or even seeking someone to watch as they fuck. In Castiel’s more adventurous years he would’ve joined them gladly, but since meeting Dean, he hasn’t been able to get the thought of dominating _one_ man out of his head. He craves a deep connection with someone, a bond that’s monogamous and passionate, unlike anything he’s ever had before. He shakes the thought from his head ruefully, though, knowing the chance of finding that tonight is slim to none. As long as he comes at some point tonight, he’ll consider his goal accomplished. 

He heads to the bar and sees his favorite bartender shaking a tumbler. 

“Long time no see, Cassie,” Gabriel chides, flashing him a toothy grin as Castiel slides onto an empty barstool. It’s packed tonight, with large clusters of people at either end of the bar. 

“Hello, Gabriel,” Castiel says evenly, giving his old friend a welcoming smile. “Seems like business is good.”

“Oh, yeah. The place didn’t stop moving just ‘cause you took a vacation,” he replies, pouring liquid into a martini glass. He scoots the drink down to a woman on his left, then turns his full attention back to Castiel. “What gives, anyways? It’s pretty unheard of for a regular like you to stop showin’ up. Unless…” He leans forward, looking smug. “You met someone.”

“What?” Castiel asks blankly, blinking owlishly. 

Gabriel snaps his fingers victoriously. “You did, you bastard! Who is it?”

“N-no one,” Castiel says, stumbling over his words, his mouth parched. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Uh huh,” Gabriel answers skeptically.

“I have been. Not all of us mix cocktails and watch threesomes for a living,” Castiel says dryly, feeling more like himself as Gabriel snorts. 

“Okay, okay, touche. Well then…whiskey?” Gabriel offers. In response, Castiel flashes his wristband and Gabriel nods approvingly. 

“Club soda then, you naughty dom, you.” He winks outrageously and turns around, sorting through a small fridge and looking distracted. Castiel spends the moment alone scanning the bar, making sure his wristband is displayed prominently to any potential play partners. He spots a sub nearby who he’s dommed before—a quiet and lanky man named Inias. Their tastes hadn’t matched up all that well, seeing as Inias required the hand of a true sadist to provide the degradation he desired. But Castiel has enough pent up energy and nerves swirling inside him after three months away…three months daydreaming about Dean. Perhaps he could channel his longing into a decent enough scene for him and Inias. 

He’s about to stand and approach him when Gabriel returns, club soda in-hand. “So, got any stokes in the fire yet, Cassie?”

Castiel takes a cautious sip of his drink, looking around the crowded bar. “Not particularly, though I’ve yet to make the rounds,” he says truthfully. 

“Oh good. I’ll introduce you to Pretty Boy,” Gabriel says, in a conspiratorial whisper. 

“Who’s…?” Castiel begins curiously. 

“It’s this guy who started coming a few months back.” Gabriel cranes his neck, as if the man will appear in front of him. “He’s got model-good looks and a bunch of doms buzzing around him like flies, but he hasn’t sampled the merchandise yet, _if you_ _know what I mean_.” 

Castiel’s eyebrows raise. It’s unusual for someone to pay for a club membership without participating eventually. Even if they’re just actively watching, the person is still considered part of the scene. 

“Oh, there he is.” Gabriel cranes his neck and shouts, “Hey! Pretty Boy! Come and meet my friend, Cassie!”

A few moments later, Castiel hears a gruff voice answer, “Dude, how many times do I gotta tell you, that nickname—”

Castiel looks to his left as the man approaches, then spots Castiel and freezes in his tracks, eyes wide. 

“Blows,” Dean says in a whisper. 

“It’s…it’s you,” Castiel says breathlessly, blinking repetitively to make sure he’s not dreaming. As many times as he’s tried to recreate Dean’s beauty in his mind, the images are nothing compared to the real thing. The freckles painting the bridge of his nose, the long and dark eyelashes, the mouth that looks entirely too kissable…

“You two know each other?” Gabriel says, smirking with one eyebrow raised questioningly. 

“We, um…” Castiel says intelligently. Mind moving fast, he thinks about how to best handle this turn of events. “No, not really.”

Dean opens his mouth. “But—”

“I’m Castiel,” he continues, gazing intensely at Dean now. He flashes his wristband. “Single. Dom.” 

Dean licks his lips. “Oh, it’s, um…nice to meet you, Cas.”

Castiel stands up, leaning his elbow closer to the bartop, invading Dean’s personal space by a few inches. “And you?”

“Dean,” the other man whispers, fiddling with his wristband nervously. Castiel watches it go from red to purple—“stop” to “in search of a dom.” Castiel reads the message loud and clear, but Dean still says in a low voice, “Single. F-first-time sub.”

Castiel’s body ignites with desire, an eagerness at the thought of being Dean’s first and only dom making his cock grow hard in his jeans. “Can I give you a tour, Dean?”

“Well, I’ve, um…”

“You’ve been here before?” Castiel guesses, and Dean sighs with relief, nodding. Castiel crowds him against the bar, lips nearly touching his ear lobe. “You’ve been waiting here for me for months, haven’t you? Like the good boy I know you are?”

Dean’s breathing accelerates, a gust of air escaping his mouth and tickling Castiel’s neck. “Yes.”

Castiel reaches his hand up suddenly, gripping Dean’s chin tightly. Dean lets out a surprised yelp and mumbles, “Yes, uh…sir?”

Castiel nods approvingly, his grip transforming into something more gentle and loving. “Are you familiar with the stoplight system, Dean?”

“I think so,” Dean says quietly, eyes zeroed in on Castiel’s mouth. “Red for stop, yellow for pause, green for go?”

“Essentially,” Castiel says with a nod. “There are more sophisticated distinctions I can provide for you at a later time, but for the purpose of this evening, we can use those definitions. _If_ we proceed, I’ll be asking your color often, since this is your first time.” 

Dean’s eyes haven’t left Castiel’s lips. “If?” he asks, sounding disappointed. 

“If,” Castiel repeats firmly. “After all, sweet boy, you haven’t yet given me your consent yet to begin.”

“Oh, um, well… Green. Definitely green,” Dean says eagerly, and Castiel chuckles. 

“I hadn’t asked you yet, but I’m glad you’re so…” He places a soft kiss on the slope of Dean’s neck and feels the sub shudder. “Willing.”

He leaves a trail of kisses down Dean’s neck, hands tight around his shoulders as he pins Dean against the bar. 

“You have no idea…” Dean says quietly, and Castiel grins predatorily. 

“I’d like to take you on a tour to get a sense of your likes and dislikes. If things go according to plan, we’ll have a longer and more thorough discussion about your kinks at a later date. But for now…” He pulls back, sliding a hand possessively on the small of Dean’s back. “I’d love to see how you react to a live show, sweet boy.”

Dean swallows and nods, allowing Cas to lead him away from the bar and to the center of the club. It’s busy, even for a Friday night, and there’s only one free seat in the center of a deep leather couch. Castiel sits down deftly, hand wrapped around Dean’s wrist. 

“I’d like you to sit in my lap, boy,” he says evenly, as Dean’s cheeks tinge pink. “Color?” 

“Green, sir,” Dean says breathlessly, bending over and putting that perfect ass right on Castiel’s crotch. Castiel feels his dick stir again and imagines Dean writhing around in his lap, using friction to make him hard. 

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel says huskily, hands gripping Dean’s hips, fingers slipping under his t-shirt to feel his bare skin. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought of you, beautiful boy.”

Dean grinds down on his lap with sudden fierceness, punching a quiet moan out of Castiel. “Think I’ve got some idea, sir,” he says smugly, shooting Castiel a wink with far too much audacity. Castiel’s eyes narrow. 

“Are you trying to tease your dom?” he says in a calm, low voice. 

“I, um…” Dean bites his lip and looks down at his hands. 

“Tell me if you are,” Castiel says conversationally, sliding his right hand up Dean’s thigh, dangerously close to his groin. “But you should know that only good boys get to come later.”

All the cockiness seems to evaporate from Dean’s expression. “S-sorry, sir.”

Castiel rubs his knee soothingly. “You’re forgiven.” He places a small kiss to the back of Dean’s neck, and the sub melts into the touch, pliant in Castiel’s hands. “Now, I want you to look around and tell me what you like.”

“What I…?” Dean begins, a question in his voice. 

“What you like. For instance, do you see the sub across from you?” Castiel’s voice drops quietly, not trying to draw attention to their game. 

Dean just nods, so Castiel gives his cheek a playful slap before the sub mutters, “Yes, yes…sir.”

“Good. You see how she’s sitting at her dom’s feet?” The sub is on her hands and knees, stock still as her dom absently tickles her back with riding crop. “Do you like what she’s wearing? What he’s doing to her?”

Castiel begins to trail his hand on Dean’s back, in sync with the whip in the other dom’s hand. “Do you wonder what it would feel like, sweet boy? To be totally at my mercy?”

Before Dean can answer, the other sub is struck suddenly with the riding crop, her ass pushing against the leather desperately. She moans, low and longingly, and Castiel slides a hand around to fondle Dean’s cock outside his jeans. He’s pleased to feel an erection, a stiff bulge against the zipper that makes his own cock stir. 

Castiel moves on, this time zeroing in on a sub kneeling between his mistress’s legs, her hand tight in his hair. They watch the scene for a moment, how the dom is teasing her sub by almost giving him what he wants.

“Do you want to taste her, Dean?” Castiel mutters in a raspy voice, sliding a hand inside Dean’s pants but not touching his cock. 

“Wanna…” Dean swallows, and Castiel peers up at him, noticing his pupils dilated and his eyes fluttering closed. “Wanna taste _you_ , sir.”

“Oh, my sweet boy…my hungry boy…” Castiel sighs, unable to keep the image of Dean on his knees, sucking cock, from entering his imagination. He slides his pointer and middle finger between Dean’s parted lips, and the sub sucks them eagerly, moaning around the intrusion and writhing around on Castiel’s lap. 

Across the room, Castiel spots a sub being tied up lightly, a spreader bar at her ankles and her hands clasped behind her back. 

“What do you think of that, Dean?” He takes his fingers from Dean’s mouth, and the sub whines pitfully at their absence. 

“I think…sir…” Dean’s breathing is uneven now. His head drops to Castiel’s shoulder, as if he’s so turned on, he can’t hold himself up. “Fuck, Cas, sir, I want you to do that to me. I want you to do _all_ of this to me. Please.”

Feeling buoyed, floating with the rush of desire coursing through his veins, Castiel tilts Dean’s chin towards him. And then he’s kissing him, fierce and ruthlessly, more a public claiming than a first kiss. Dean just moans into it and lets Castiel take what he wants, which Cas has decided might just be _everything._

“I want to get us a private playroom, sweet boy,” he says, breaking off from the kiss with far too much effort. “I want our first time together to be special.”

“Mmm,” Dean mutters happily. “Whatever you say, Cas.”

Castiel, for all his years of domming, can’t find the strength to chastise his sub for calling him by his first name now. He simply kisses him again, slipping his tongue into Dean’s mouth, before finally coming up for air and whispering, “Good boy.”

***

Dean’s heart is hammering in his chest. _He finally came. He’s really here_. He feels a bit like he might vibrate out of his skin. The past few weeks have been torture—coming to the club, watching everyone else play, waiting for just the right blue-eyed dom to walk in. 

Not that he hadn’t considered finding a different partner…there had been more than a few curious stares, and even a few people who gave him vague invitations despite his red wristband. Still something had held him back. He just had this image of Castiel in his head that he couldn’t shake, and if he was going to do this, it was gonna be with someone he trusted…someone like Cas.

“Come, my sweet boy,” Castiel urges him up off his lap, and Dean laments the loss of contact. Luckily, Cas is quick to put a firm hand on the back of his neck and walk him through the club. Dean feels heat rise on his cheeks, being marched toward the back rooms like a naughty child…and yet, his dick only hardens further in his jeans.

Castiel’s hand is so firm and reassuring on his neck, and something about the guiding force makes Dean feel small and taken care of. He waits patiently next to Cas as he speaks with the dungeon master about getting a room. The man gives Dean a once over, confirming that he consents to this before giving Castiel a room key. Even just letting Cas handle getting the room feels so foreign to Dean… To just follow, and not have to decide what happens next, feels like such a relief.

“You're going to be good for me, aren’t you, Dean?” Castiel whispers in his ear, as he leads them to one of the far back rooms. It's not a question, but it’s an order, and makes Dean’s skin sing with anticipation. He is going to be good, so very good.

“Yes, sir,” he whispers back, his voice a bit higher and more choked than he wishes it was. The lust and excitement are evident in his every move.

His dom opens the door and pushes him gently through. Dean can’t stop the gasp from leaving his lips. The room…has… _everything_. A wall of impact implements, a table with brand new, in-the-packaging insertables, gags, and leather bondage gear. Then there’s the furniture: a Saint Andrew's cross in one corner, a spanking bench, stocks, a small cage, and a big, beautiful bed.

He takes in all the rings along the walls, imagining all the ways he could be strung up. A low whine of anticipation comes out on an exhale, and he is never more grateful that he waited for Castiel.

“So many possibilities, aren’t there?” Castiel’s warm voice rumbles in his ear as the man pulls Dean’s back to his front. He can practically feel the heat through their clothes, and the unmistakable bulge in his dom’s pants makes him want to purr.

“Have you used most of this before?” he asks cautiously, his eyes returning to the Saint Andrew's cross.

“Everything in here, at least once, yes. I promise I know exactly what I’m doing, Dean. I will keep you safe,” Castiel whispers, placing a kiss to the back of his neck, “and satisfied.” The last words are said with a low growl that makes Dean shiver again, despite the warmth in the room.

“God yes,” Dean groans, rocking back against Castiel. He hears a warm chuckle behind him.

“I’m going to tell you everything that is going to happen tonight before we begin, and you can tell me if you consent. Do you understand?” Dean nods his head in response, and feels a harsh pinch to his side that makes him jump and yelp. “Words, sweet boy.”

“Yes sir, green sir,” he chokes out quickly.

“Good boy,” Castiel purrs happily, and if that doesn’t just make Dean want to melt into a puddle. He bites his lip to refrain from begging, though he doesn’t even know what he would beg for. “First, you're going to strip for me and let me see all that delicious skin.”

Castiel pauses, and it takes Dean a second to figure out what he’s waiting for. “Green, sir.”

“I’m going to take a silicon cock ring and slide it onto your eager cock, because good boys only come when their dom tells them to.”

“G-green sir,” he whimpers out, squirming in Castiel’s grip and enjoying the firm arms holding him back.

“Then I am going to tie you up to that cross, with your back to me, and use that flogger,” Castiel points at a flogger on the far wall, “to pink up your gorgeous skin.”

Dean hesitates a moment. “But it won’t break my skin, right?”

“No, sweet boy. It will sting and burn and leave you with a bit of an ache, but it will fade within a day. There will be no blood, I promise. It's just a bit of warm up. If you don’t like it, simply safeword and we will stop immediately.”

“Okay, sir.” He nods to himself and adds, “Green, sir.”

“Hmmm,” Castiel hums happily, his hands gripping Dean’s hips firmly. “Once you're nice and open for me, I’m going to put you on your knees so you can show me how grateful you are. Push my cock as far down that throat as I can, till I can feel you swallow around me.”

“Holy shit, green sir…like, kermit green,” he answers quickly, and Castiel lets out a real laugh this time.

“I have recent test results to show you I am clean…so I can feel your wet tongue on my bare cock, if you consent?” Castiel holds out the paper he pulled from a back pocket.

Dean scans the paper quickly. “I don’t have my papers with me, but I was tested and I’m clean too, sir.”

“Well then, once I am finished with your throat, I will bend you over that wedge pillow, roll on a condom, and fuck the orgasm right out of you. Pound this perfect round ass of yours.” 

Dean bites his lip hard, moaning, and _dear god_ that voice makes him want to fall apart.“Yes sir, green sir. I don’t need prep. I can take it and I like the burn,” he whispers out, almost embarrassed to admit it.

“My sweet boy thinks he can handle all this?” Castiel rocks his erection up against Dean, making him whine. “In this tiny little hole?”

“Oh fuck, yes, fuck yes please,” he whines, and Castiel places another soft kiss on his neck.

“Alright, sweet boy. I have you now. Strip for me.” Castiel pushes Dean away gently, turning them face to face. The look of dark lust in his eyes is enough to freeze Dean to the spot for a moment. That is, until one arched brow looks at Dean in question, and he quickly moves to unbutton his shirt and shimmy out of his jeans.

He scoops up his clothes, tossing them in a pile to the side before moving to stand in front of his dom. Unsure if there is a certain way he should do this, he goes with his default of military stance: feet spread apart, chest back, and hands behind his back. If it just so happens to put his perky nipples on display, then that's just a happy accident.

His dom slowly circles him, a finger dragging lightly across his chest and shoulders. “So lovely, my good boy. I wondered about how far down these freckles went.” Castiel hums happily and Dean basks in the praise.

“Oh god!” Dean gasps, as a firm hand wraps around his cock.

“Shh…shh, easy there, sweet boy,” Castiel soothes him, as he strokes Dean’s cock till it's rigid and desperate. “Time for the cock ring,” Castiel informs him, as he slips it down over his erection. Dean moans at the sensation, having always wanted to try one of these. “This will not prevent you from coming, but it will help you hold off till you have permission. Understood?”

Dean nods, and gets a quick smack to his back hip. “Yes! Yes sir.”

Castiel leans in then, his blue eyes glistening in the low light as he places a soft kiss on Dean’s cheek. “Ready to play, handsome? What's your color?”

“Green, sir,” he whispers back, enjoying the feel of Castiel’s breath on his skin.

A firm hand grips the back of his neck again and marches him toward the cross. It’s intimidating, and Castiel presses him face first up against the hard oak wood. He feels his heart pounding in his chest as Castiel guides his hands up toward the leather cuffs. “Feel this right here?” Castiel whispers against his ear.

He feels along the top of the wood, and finds what feels like a smooth button. “Yes sir.”

“That's a panic button. All the restraint furniture in this room has them. You can always hit that button if you ever feel unsafe, and the dungeon master will come in and help you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean lets out a small sigh. It does make him feel better to know he has an out. He has no intentions of using it, but just knowing it’s there settles something in him.

Castiel begins to buckle his wrists into the restraints before stepping away. Dean shivers a bit at the sudden loss of contact. He can’t believe he’s really trying this. A little voice in his head tells him he’s crazy, but the voice doesn’t know what it's talking about, ‘cause the rest of him is so _very_ on board.

“Too much thinking. Just relax…let me make you feel good.” Castiel’s voice is suddenly closer behind him again. There's a whistle through the air, and stinging smack burns across his ass, making him gasp and arch his back at the shock. He tugs on the restraints, breathing hard before another whoosh and a smack.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” he cries out at the sting across his shoulder blades. It isn’t as painful as he thought but it is shocking. Castiel starts up a steady rhythm up and down his body, hitting his thighs, ass, shoulders, even his biceps. His skin warms and shifts to a burning ache, and he squirms against the cross as his dom continues to deliver punishing blows.

“Good boy, that's it…just let go.” 

Dean’s head swims as he listens to the low rumbling words, and he feels his body start to give. It feels like some kind of knot deep within his gut has finally let go. All the burning ache fades away, every muscle surrendering, and he feels like he’s floating away.

“All done now, good boy. You did so well. Just beautiful, Dean.” Castiel’s voice is like a balm to all his aches and biting pain. He nods in response—he _is_ a good boy.

“Alright, let's get you down.” His dom unbuckles his wrists and guides Dean to kneel on the ground before him. His shoulders slump, and he blinks up at his dom to see a happy smile on his face, crinkling his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, sir,” Dean huffs out without a thought.

Castiel chuckles. “Thank you, my sweet boy. What’s your color?”

It takes Dean a moment to gather his thoughts. “G-green, very green, sir.”

“If you enjoyed yourself I think you know how to thank me,” Castiel says, raising a single brow at him. It would make Dean want to shudder if he wasn’t so incredibly loose.

He thinks hard on what he can do, but then he realizes the answer is right in front of him. He reaches up with tentative hands and unzips his sir’s pants. He keeps his eyes on the prize, even when he feels a hand sink into his hair giving him an encouraging little tug. He reaches in and pulls free his dom's substantial cock. It's just how he imagined—a firm rounded head, just enough to choke himself on nicely.

The hand on his head guides him forward and he opens wide to suck down the beautiful cock. He wastes little time bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks, taking his dom deeper and deeper on each thrust.

“Look at me, pretty, there… just like that,” Castiel pants, as he thrusts deeper into Dean’s throat. Dean chokes a little, looking up at Castiel through watering eyes, and he’s never felt so utterly debauched. He hums in pleasure, feeling his own neglected cock bounce where it’s bound on his lap. 

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous choking on my cock. Been thinking of this for weeks…you make me feel so good, sweet boy.”

The praise wraps around him and fills him with warmth as he blinks up at this glorious man. He looks even bigger and more commanding standing over him like this, and Dean has never felt safer. Suddenly the hands in his hair grip hard, pulling him off, and he sucks in a very needed breath, panting as he looks up at his dom.

“Up you go, sweetheart. As lovely as your mouth is, that’s not where I plan to finish tonight.” Castiel reaches down and hauls Dean to his feet by his upper arms. He sways a bit as Castiel guides him toward the bed, tossing a hard foam wedge pillow right in the middle. Dean’s never been manhandled like this before, and he is quickly becoming addicted to the firm, demanding hands moving him around.

“Over the pillow now, spread your legs for me, yes, like that…and arms behind your back.” Dean complies easily, his hard cock bumping the soft fabric on the foam wedge. His ass is in the air, in the perfect presenting position, making him flush a little at how dirty he must look. Castiel puts leather cuffs on Dean’s wrists and clips them together behind his back.

“Color, Dean?” Castiel asks, his voice sounding a bit rough.

“Green, sir. I want you in me, please sir,” he says, adding the little beg for good measure.

“Anything for my good boy.” Castiel’s hands run up the backs of his thighs, slowly spreading them wider, thumbs tracing up the round of his ass. He shivers in anticipation, his neglected cock is desperate to come, and he focuses hard on holding back as a slick finger traces his hole.

“Mmm god yes, please yes,” Dean sighs as he feels the slick lube coated finger dip into his sensitive rim. Fuck, it feels so fucking good…he just wants that cock in him now. He wants to be split open, to be broken down to tiny pieces till he can’t do anything but feel.

As if hearing his mind's request the finger is retreating, there's a tear of a foil packet, and the press of something much larger is right against his rim. Hands grip his hips as his body starts to give to the pressure, welcoming Castiel in.

“Ah! Ah!” he cries out as Castiel thrusts a few times till he’s fully seated within him. Dean is well and truly stuffed, he’s burning from the flogging and it makes Castiel’s skin against his own feel like it's on fire. It's amazing and overwhelming and he shivers all over as Castiel pulls back and thrusts in again, knocking a choked sob of submission out of him.

Castiel’s firm body leans over his, and he begins pounding into Dean with harsh, shallow thrusts. He lets out filthy moans and whimpers as Castiel angles hard for his prostate, brushing the bundle of nerves and sending pulses of pleasure down his bound cock.

“Oh, oh, oh yes, Cas! Harder!” he pants, and relishes the growl and feel of teeth grazing the back of his neck.

“So gorgeous, feel so good, Dean…so tight and warm around my cock. So perfect, god you’re so perfect,” Castiel chants, as his thrusts get more erratic. “Come whenever you want m–my good boy,” Castiel moans, and Dean feels fingers reaching down under his hips and wrapping around his cock.

“Oh fuck!” Dean cries out, and feels his orgasm tear through him at just the touch of Castiel’s hands on him. Dean’s body clamps down harder, his balls pulled up tight, and he hears a strangled sound as Castiel stills on a final thrust.

He lets his eyes drop closed, mouth open on a long sigh as his body melts further into the pillow. He whimpers a little as he feels Castiel pulling out of him, and a warm wet cloth swipes over his sensitive cock.

“Easy, beautiful. You were so good for me, Dean, just stay still. I have you.” Castiel’s voice is warm and thick like syrup and he nods, not having the will nor the desire to disobey. The wedge pillow is pulled out from under him and he hears clothes hitting the floor, then a warm body slides in next to him. Strong arms pull him up till he’s tucked right into Castiel’s side, face resting on his dom’s bare chest. A blanket is pulled over them, and Dean lets himself nestle down and just float away in this wonderful space.

“So good, Dean, you did so well,” Castiel whispers to him, rubbing his back. 

Dean doesn’t remember this from any of the porn of he watched, but it’s almost as good as the mindblowing sex. 

“Well thank you. I enjoy cuddling as well.” Castiel chuckles warmly and Dean realizes he must have said that out loud.

“Sooooo relaxed, Doc,” Dean slurs happily.

“Just what I like to hear.” Castiel kisses the top of his head and lets Dean float in his subspace a little longer. Dean knows he wants to do this again, and he’s sure of one thing… He finally found his kind of therapy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come drop your thoughts and reactions in the comments~


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